That Feline Beat
by Bearbutt
Summary: AU. What if Steph became Catgirl instead of Batgirl? Pairings include variations of Bat/Cat and Holly/Karon. T because language, but this will likely go into Title from the Aristocats song 'Everybody Wants to be a Cat'.
1. Laid Off

**This is an AU idea I came up with a while ago. What if instead of trying to prove herself as Robin, Stephanie went to Catwoman? Thus creating a world without War Games. The original AU also included Selina adopting Jason Todd and basically becoming the "Child Services" of broken Robins. (Yes, eventually Damian would have been added.) If you want to read that AU, I'd suggest keeping an eye on quipquipquip's fanfiction account, because I know she's working on her own version of that. I don't feel comfortable enough with my knowledge of Jason's canon to properly write him.**

**Steph and Selina are two characters that are really important to me. They deal with a lot of tough situations that make them more relatable than a lot of heroes. They also have a lot in common, as will be touched on in this chapter. One recurring thread is of course, Black Mask, so he will be showing up in this fic. **

**Also, Holly, because Holly's awesome.**

* * *

The kid shows up at her door with a duffle bag at the asscrack of day (roughly six in the morning). She's freshly showered and practically bushy tailed , putting on her best puppy eyes as she says,

"Bruce kicked me off the team."

Selina is not amused by any part of this situation. She went to bed sometime around four thirty and therefore looks like a wifebeating joke crossed with a hedgehog.

"'s early."

"I see that, but you know, 'If you want a job you gotta show up bright and early to show them that you're serious!' My mom used to always say. Well, not my mom actually, my career councilor. But, there have been worse moms than women taught to work with Gotham's troubled youth."

Yappy little thing. Nervous chatter that she does not have the patience to deal with.

"If I say yes to whatever you're asking will you please stop talking and let me go back to bed?"

Nervous, the blonde girl nods hard and makes a zipping motion over her mouth.

"Good. Now, either go home and come back closer to evening, or help yourself to the sofa. Cupboards are yours, volume stays under 20. Watch Bullwinkle or something."

Selina slinks (more like gracefully drags) herself back to bed leaving the front door open. Stephanie steps inside gingerly as if expecting to be chastised for breaking some unknown rule. Silence. A ginger tabby rubs against her leg. Cool.

* * *

As refreshed as she'll ever be, Selina returns to the world of the living. Her ears are greeted by the screechy wauling of Holly and their new house guest singing along to Spice Girls.

Coffee. Lots of it.

Resembling more of a zombie than a seductress, she passes them on the way to the pot. Stephanie looks reluctant to continue singing, but Holly elbows her and keeps dancing.

"Yellow men in Timbuktu colour for both me and youuuuuu! Kung fu fighting! Dancing Queen! Tribal spacemen and all that's in between!"

Caffiene refreshing and fixing her senses, she grooves along to the music. Holly turns it off after they have sufficiently spiced up their lives.

"I learned how a bill becomes a law!" Stephanie tells her.

"Schoolhouse Rock is still on TV?"

"I pay extra for the Retro Channel so I can watch She-Ra." Holly informs her.

Selina nods, not really listening. Clearly Holly and Stephanie are peas in a pod because they begin excitedly reciting lines from a product-driven 80s cartoon. She was too busy working streets and shady heists in that decade to watch TV.

Suddenly, she feels much older. Damn kids.

"Robin, let's head to the gym. I need to see what you can do."

The girl practically swells at Selina calling her that. She doesn't have to guess to know the poor kid doesn't get a lot of positive reinforcement anywhere, let alone from Batman. She'd talk to Bruce about it, however unlikely him listening is.

* * *

Selina has to show the kid how to tape her fingers properly. Self-taught bad habits. Still, she's got a good swing. A lot of raw power being thrown at her. The style is muddled and remixed, but she recognises enough moves to guess who taught her to properly throw a punch.

"You sure you don't want to apply for the job of Purple Canary? I'm sure the fishnets would look good on you."

Crack. Right to the fucking jaw. Her eyes stream. Shit, she didn't see that swing coming. Her mind reels. Was it the banter making her slow or is Stephanie just incredibly unpredictable.

"Oh my god I just broke Catwoman's jaw. I am so sorry. Here, I know first aid!"

Selina lifts a hand to stop the younger woman fretting over her.

"Just surprised me is all." She cracks her jaw for emphasis.

Stephanie still insists on getting some ice in a towel for her. They take a water break leaning against the ropes of the ring.

"Okay. Good. To um... answer your earlier question, Dinah sent me on my merry way about a year ago. Something about being too busy and dangerous situations in Jakarta."

"Ah, the 'Dear John' letter of Superheroes. 'I don't want you to get hurt by my lack of secret identity! I'm trying to seem heroic when I really just don't feel like dealing with the responsibility of caring for someone anymore. It's better if we keep the masks on.'"

"What was that last one?"

"You'll find out when you're older."

"Little late for that. Learned about the birds and the bees right around my third trimester."

Selina's whole body goes tense. This girl can't be a day over seventeen and she's already had a kid. The older woman takes a good look at the former Robin for the first time. The hard look she sees in all the street kids she takes in is mirrored in those blue eyes. The look of survival and shame. Deeply embedded hatred for a system that treats her like shit. More than that though, she knows the exact look. Depressed mother, abusive father. A little girl who begs her friends to let her sleepover on week nights so she doesn't have to go home to the yelling. Or worse. The silence.

Her figure is small, and her muscles built for necessity. No Wayne approved training regiment. Curves fill out her T-Shirt and track pants. It's likely the girl's been fighting off unwanted advances since a young age. God, she just hopes the pregnancy was result of consent. Younger bodies recover from child birth faster, but the baby is present in the flare of her hips. Just a kid making that kind of sacrifice. Yes, Stephanie Brown is tougher than any first glance could detect.

"Bruce and his world of imaginary laws will never understand. The anger and helplessness of those who have to survive by any means necessary. The grey spaces between his black and white."

Stephanie looks confused for a moment, but nods, if only to get points by agreeing.

Her moves are lacking in precision what they make up for in power. Ted Grant would be proud of such a swing. However, the kid leaves herself open to attack way too often and wears herself with the wrecking ball strategy. Therefore, Selina has to teach Stephanie what a cat must be best at.

Dodging.

They start with some aikido throws and a little tai chi to show her smoother, more defensive martial arts. Stephanie is quite the eager pupil and throws her all into every technique they practice.

"Okay, hit the showers. There's a diner across the street that serves good pie."

* * *

Baked goods are going to work well for positive reinforcement it seems. Selina smiles into her water as she watches Stephanie scarf her second slice of Blueberry ala mode.

"This is the greatest pie in the history of pie."

This kid is so clearly a Robin it makes her heart ache. Well, that and the Robin she reminds her most of is currently on the lamb after returning from the dead. Angry, impulsive, joyous, full of wonder at the miracle of human consciousness. She never stood a chance being this similar to Jason Todd.

"I almost killed Zsasz."

"Oh yeah?"

"Mmhm. Was in the process of shoving his nose into his brain when the boss man dragged me off him."

"So he gave you the boot."

"Waited for 'strike three'."

"Wonder how many lives would have been spared if you succeeded."

"Lots. Can't become judge, jury, and executioner though. Who am I to make that decision?"

"He has indoctrinated you well."

Stephanie shrugs her shoulders and wipes her mouth on her sleeve.

"Yeah, well, he's a jerk, but he's got a few things right."

"Letting someone who cannot be rehabilitated like Zsazs continue to run around is dangerous and irresponsible. It's how he makes himself feel less at fault for the lives lost."

They sit and digest the heavy silence occasionally interrupted by clinking plates and other patrons.

"The more you love someone, the more you want to hit them with a brick." Stephanie finally says.

Selina hasn't laughed this hard in a while.

* * *

**See that box down there? It's lonely. You should talk to it.**

**-B**


	2. Seduction School

**A/N: These ladies play off each other so well that the stories practically write themselves. Something I'll be exploring in this chapter and following ones is how charismatic both women are. Selina has some idea of the effect she has on people, but Steph hasn't a clue. The next few chapters and this story in general are an alternate way of Stephanie coming into her own as a woman and a hero.**

**The bit about needing to leave yourself in order to find yourself is true. If ever you feel trapped, it's good to remind yourself that you can just leave. I chose Paris, because I have some knowledge of the city and it's the kind of sexy destination Catwoman would pick.**

**As usual, reviews are the grease along my writing axles. **

* * *

Stephanie feels a flush rise up her neck all the way to her ears. Soft curves are pressed flush against hers. Her gaze is locked on fluttering green eyes. The smell of the other woman's perfume is soothing and intoxicating all at once. She feels lightheaded.

"The key to pickpocketing is distracting your mark long enough for them not to notice your hands in their pockets."

Selina holds up Stephanie's keychain. She nods a little dazedly before blinking and shaking her head. She presses the cold metal to her cheeks and exhales loudly.

"Wow. So that's how you got Batman to let you go all those times!"

"Charm takes practice Kid."

"Yeah, well I'm about as charming as a sack of leeches."

"Lovely."

Selina gives her keys back and stands a ways away. Her posture is relaxed, mimicking the ideal mark. Stephanie goes into 'go-mode' and marches up to Selina. The woman's smirk twitches a little at how determined the blonde looks.

"Excuse me Ma'am, do you happen to have the time?"

Green eyes blink in confusion and Selina checks her imaginary watch.

"It's half passed an arm hair, why?"

Like a bolt of lightning an arm latches to her side and fingers begin to wiggle.

"Stephanie. Don't you dare."

It's too late. With the willpower and grace of a drunk mule, Stephanie pushes her to the ground, still tickling her sides.

"You li-little... -hahaha- sttoooppp!"

"Vengeance for tying my predecesors up! Robin Justice!" Stephanie stops tickling her and sits back on her knees.

Selina pants, this girl is full of surprises. Plus, the physical affection is kind of nice. She blinks up at the younger woman when she notices he keys dangling from Stephanie's fingers.

"Unconventional. Also, I'm pretty sure if you tried that on a stranger you'd get tazed."

"This isn't Canada. I see your point though. You looked like you could use a laugh."

"Dangerous words in our field. Let me know if you start craving pores clogged by greasepaint."

"Fun fact, according to Arkham's files, Harley Quinn and I are the exact same height and weight."

"That could be incredibly useful." She takes the hand Stephanie offers.

The two dust themselves off and prepare for another attempt.

Another hour and Stephanie is pulling her hair in frustration. Selina doesn't feel much better, but as mentor she's required to keep a cool head. No matter what, the kid just cannot pull off oozing sex appeal. Yeah, she's had a kid, but Stephanie doesn't seem to know how to tap into her inner sexuality.

"Ugh! I have no swag." She groans.

"You need to promise me that you're never going to use that term again." Selina says.

"Sorry Cat-Sensei."

"May I interject?" Holly asks.

They look to her, slightly startled. She's leaning against the doorjamb with an apple in hand. Movement in the kitchen informs them of Karon's added precense.

"Sure, fill your boots." Selina steals her apple.

"You're going about this all wrong. The Femme Fatale works for you Selina, but Steph here needs to find her own inner goddess to properly release the sex appeal. Stephanie, if you don't mind me asking, how do you typically seduce people?"

"Well, with Dean I never really had to do anything, and Tim I uh... pinch his butt and smoosh my mouth on his? He's not big on the sex so I kinda gotta take charge..." She half-mumbles.

"Okay. So, you started as sexually passive then became the aggressor?"

"I guess?"

"How good are you at playing dumb blonde?"

"I take a little offense to it..."

Holly levels her with a look.

"Let me re-phrase, I want you to be the slighty-awkward-and-ditzy-but-super-hot-next-door-neighbour. Can you try that please?"

Stephanie puffs out her cheeks then exhales. A few more breaths and she looks up from under her eyelashes. She makes her body seem smaller, less confident and bites her lower lip. A hand runs through her hair, fluffing it nervously.

"Excuse me. Hi. I've -uh- this is sooo embarassing, but I seem to have locked myself out of my car."

Steph places a warm hand on Holly's shoulder then removes it as if burned. She plays up the embarassment. Selina quirks a brow as she finishes Holly's apple.

"Could I borrow your phone so I can call a cab? I'm gonna be late for an appointment."

When Holly is reaching for her phone Stephanie steals her wallet and hides it behind your back. Holly tilts her head back with a grin and turns to Selina.

"Good, but still needs work. Still, I think this angle works a little better? Thoughts?"

Selina nods and gives a golf clap, still holding the core. They have their persona, but her patience is worn as are her eyes.

"It's a start. We'll pack it in for today."

* * *

Some nights Stephanie goes home, other times Selina finds her passed out on her sofa with a box of Holly's sugar cereal. It's soggy by then of course. The whole thing is kind of worrying, because Selina's been there before. Not wanting to be home, too smart to be anywhere else.

Well, minus the smart part. She did get herself involved with a pimp before she was legally able to drink. Working with Stan was regrettable, but it taught her that domination was something she needed. Control. The balance between relationships. At any time, the submissive can tell the dominant to stop. The control is a shared power.

Power, money, and sex all rolled into one. It was her own way of learning about the world. She wonders about Stephanie. How those motivators figure into the girl's life.

Power. As an abused child, she probably didn't have a lot. Started fighting back. Started running away. Skipping school. Not giving her own power over to figures of authority. Selina can relate. After a while, the mask gets to you. It starts taking over. You keep using it for the thrill, the rush of adrenaline. Seeing fear in the eyes of those who would once try to intimidate you.

It's intoxicating. Like a drug. Right down to the part when you look the tired, paranoid version of yourself in the mirror and have no idea who you are. That day you can't remember where Catwoman ends and Selina Kyle begins.

Identity. That's what Stephanie needs before she can move on.

* * *

"Pack your shit, we're going on a field trip." Selina announces.

"How did you get into my bedroom? Okay. Easy question. How do you know where I live?"

"Your mother let me in, and I asked Dinah."

Stephanie puts her hands on her hips and bites at her lower lip. She eyes the adult woman on her bed. She's lying flat on her back and batting at a hackey sack like a cat with some yarn. Well, if the boots fit...

"Are we talking like a Greyhound ride to Yelm, Washington to break up a hippie cult or will I need more than one pair of pants?" She asks, reaching for her duffel.

"We are going to France. Maybe Greece too. So pack fashionable."

"I shop at Walmart."

"It's not the clothes, it's the attitude. However, we will be sure to go shopping once in Europe. They probably have better bras in your size. I know how hard it is to shop for a double-D."

Stephanie crosses her arms and flushes. It's true. If you're over a C cup then it's hard finding a cheap, sexy bra. Fighting crime usually means having to put a sports shirt over her Wonderbra. Maybe she can find a decent Jane Strap in Europe.

"Wait. Why Europe? I have school."

"Some things can't be learned in a text book, Sweetheart. Do you think I graduated?"

"Yeah, but instead you became a hooker. I'm not sure if I should be taking career counselling from you." Stephanie shrugs, fearing that she's gone too far.

Selina's hackles raise a little, and she has an expression of wanting to hit something. Instead she relaxes and gives a throaty chuckle.

"I see your point." She stands, "I just think that this city gets to people. Gotham has a pulse and everyone living here can feel it. It gets inside your bones and sometimes it's the very thing that holds you back or stops you from healing. After Stan and everything... I just... needed out. I went to Rio and sat on a beach. No one knew who I was or what part of the world I came from. I could just exist."

Stephanie's face to face with those green eyes again and it's making her head fuzzy. The logic in Selina's words ring true. Plus, she's heard things. The streets are getting rowdy, different gangs are looking to have a rumble. Part of her wants to be there to play damage control, another part of her spitefully wants to leave the others hanging, self-preservation? It's telling her to get the fuck out of dodge.

"Paris it is then."

* * *

Her chest flutters against the bonds. They're tight, professionally done. She's pretty sure all the baddies take some kind of knot-tying class to go with the child-grabbing.

Also, a cat food factory? Way cliche.

"Well, well, well, Girl Wonder. I wonder if the Batman will be here to save you in time." A voice purrs.

Catwoman. She stands there all gloriously seductive in a purple double-slitted dress and catty cowl. A tamed leopard paces at her feet. It purrs and rubs against her bare thigh and holstered whip.

Robin rolls her eyes and tries not to slobber on her gag. Seriously, how cliche can you get? She's tied to the world's slowest conveyer belt in an obvious grab for attention rather than a murder plot. She's pretty sure Catwoman even disabled any cutting and packing functions. The belt will likely drop her unharmed onto a storage room floor. She's even checking her lipstick.

Whatever, she sawed through her bonds thirty seconds ago. Stephanie aims a high kick at one ridiculously dressed goon as she leaps from the 'death trap'. Another two henchmen come running at her with some kind of cattle prods. Cattle. Hi-larious. An uppercut to the jaw sends on reeling and she uses the momentum to catepault them both into the last goon.

She stands, chest heaving among the pile of downed goons. Three is hardly a pile though. She feels like she's playing sidekick on 'Easy'. Then the leopard starts towards her.

Does it make her a horrible person if she punches an endangered species in the face?

She doesn't get the chance to find out. With the crack of a whip she is pulled out of the beast's reach. Instead, the purr of another specials caresses her ear.

"Mmm. Looks like Batman isn't showing up tonight. What ever shall we do with ourselves?"

Robin turns in Catwoman's arms, blushing. She starts to stammer out a response along the lines of, "No thanks, Lady" when there's a sudden lurch and they're both falling.

Stephanie's eyes slam open and she plucks out a headphone to check if the plane is crashing. Not even turbulence. Just the flight attendant asking if she'd like some water. Hell yes, she wants water. She was having a sexy dream about her mentor. What the hell.

She still feels that phantom breath of Catwoman against the shell of her ear.

"And how about for your friend?" The attendant asks.

Stephanie turns her head to find Selina drooling on her shoulder.

This trip is off to a great start.

* * *

_Everyone's a little bit in love with Selina Kyle._

_-B_


	3. Feeling Good

**AN: This took a little longer to hammer out than the other chapters. I hit a Bat-slump right in the middle and am still working to reclaim my groove. This chapter deals with the self-esteem required to be Catwoman, also, we get our glimpse of the title song. Holly deals with some uninvited company and they go shopping.**

**There's a little French in this chapter and me showing off my limited knowledge of Paris. I'll put a translation at the bottom for those who can't figure it out.**

**What's happening next chapter?**

**We get a cameo appearance form a Paris-based vigilante, Steph and Selina do some parkour, and things get sexy(ier).**

**Suggested listening: Any of the songs used in the fic, however, I listened to a lot of Naya Rivera while writing this.**

* * *

Holly's washing the dishes when she notices something dark and inky on the opposite apartment building. Her brows furrow, but she is distracted by Karon and a few of the boys entering the door.

"Mm, smells good, Baby." Her girlfriend kisses her.

Holly hums into the smooch. She turns to eye the clock on the stove. She's experimenting with a new recipe. A kind of spinach and broccoli casserole. Something green for the small herd of street kids they regularly take care of. Casseroles are economic, so it's easier to feed large groups with them. Something she learned back at the abbey.

Kids and dinner are so distracting that she forgets even having seen the strange shadow.

That is, until she gets up to pee that evening and finds a giant freaking bat in her livingroom.

"Fat Jesus on a bike!" She shrieks.

If it were Batman it would be different. She has seen Batman and knows (from Selina's grumbling)that he's just a guy(jerk) in a costume. This. This bat-thing is different. It's large and sleek and instead of having an exposed mouth and jaw it's just... stitched shut. No white lenses peer out at her. In their place are buggy black protrusions, the mask looks featureless in its lack of colour.

She stands there with her heart pounding and staring at the bat-person-thing as it turns to look back at her. It seems curious, apologetic even. It holds up its hands to show lack of harmful intent.

"Sorry." A low voice says.

The bat takes off its cowl to reveal a tall, dark-haired girl. She shakes the shaggy mess from her eyes and looks at Holly balefully.

"Where's Steph?"

* * *

The crooning of Nina Simone's 'Feeling Good' awakens Stephanie from her hazy slumber. Jet lag is a drag. That must rhyme for a reason.

_What smells like french toast? _

_Could it be that in France regular toast smells like french toast?_

_No, Stephanie, that's the jet lag talking. Clearly your awesome roommate-mentor-person can cook._

She drags herself out of bed and starts brushing the tangles out of her mass of blonde hair. She goes to the bathroom before entering the hotel's en-suite kitchen. Selina is there in her usual attire (a robe) singing along to the music. Were they a couple, this would be the part where Stephanie comes in and wraps her arms around the older woman's waist and kisses her. But, they are not a couple, so she leans against the door jamb.

Sensing her prescence, Selina turns around and strides towards her. Her face is incredibly intense as she holds her spatula like a weapon.

"Do you like waffles?" She whispers in Stephanie's ear.

Stephanie gulps, "Yeah we like waffles."

"Do you like pancakes?"

"Yeah we like pancakes!"

"DO YOU LIKE FRENCH TOAST?!"

"YEAH WE LIKE FRENCH TOAST!"

They both dance around the kitchen chanting, "Doot doot da doot CAN'T WAIT TO GET ENOUGH OF WAFFLES!"

Selina rushes back to the skillet because the toast is smoking. The bottom is a little scorched, but salvageable. They agree to each take one slightly burnt piece. Living with little has taught them not to waste food.

"What did we learn this morning?" Selina asks.

"It's like two in the afternoon."

"That's right, Stephanie! While impromptu musical numbers may be fun, they can have real life consequences. Like burnt French Toast. Use your time according and try to fit your chores into your song and dance. Like a Disney movie." Selina ignores her comment.

Stephanie chuckles into her toast. Yeah, they may not have the crunch and syrup pockets of waffles, but their cinnamon-y goodness is delicious with powdered sugar.

* * *

They feel carb-bloated and tired after mid-afternoon-brunchfast. Selina still finds the energy to drag Stephanie out of the hotel for some sight-seeing. Their hotel is nice and close to the Metro. The tickets they buy are tiny and easily lost. Stephanie puffs out her cheeks and puts a pile in her unstylish backpack. The Metro is crowded, but the windows open, so it isn't too stuffy (like the subway back in Gotham). Each stop is a different colour tile and artistic representation. They get off at some station Stephanie doesn't even try to pronounce. She figures the less she tries to speak French, the more she will blend in.

Selina, however, is fluent in the language. She flirts with one some businessman as they walk through the turnstile.

"I've forgotten how much I missed this city. Stephanie, you haven't shopped until you've visited Champs-Elysées."

Stephanie's eyes bulge out of her head. She sputters and waves her digital camera.

"You said we were just going to the see the Arc de Triomphe! I ate my weight in carbs this morning. I probably can't fit my ass into new sweatpants, let alone swooshy Parisian stuff!"

Selina rolls her eyes.

"Hon, again, we're in Europe. Things fit differently here and if we flash a big enough wad, they'll bend over backwards. Same as back home, really. But fancier."

For emphasis, Selina wraps an arm around Steph and gestures with an outstretched hand.

"We're on a whole other continent in a global city known for being attractive and dog shit. Release your inhibitions, Kid. No one here is gonna judge you."

"But we're surrounded by the French."

"When in Paris, do what ever the fuck you want."

Selina drags her around a myraid of expensive shops. She handwaves prices, saying she has a "trust fund" for such shopping expenses. Stephanie feels self-conscious about a few scars and misplaced calories around her midsection. The mirror shows her every flaw.

Good lord, Selina picks out this periwinkle spaghetti-strapped dress that shows off way too much tit. Ugh, she has such a potbelly.

Stephanie tries adjusting her hair to make the look better when the older woman shoves her head into the change room.

"You look great."

"I have tummy rolls. I look like Miss Piggy without the confidence."

"Miss Piggy is a feminist icon. You just need to flaunt it better."

She budges in behind Stephanie and frowns before adjusting the younger girl's posture. Black nailed fingers tuck the blonde's hair into a loose ponytail and place it over the younger girl's shoulder.

"See? We need to get you a necklace and maybe some strappy heels. Otherwise, voila."

Stephanie scrutinizes the girl in the mirror. She has a few too many blackheads around her nose and her forehead is shiny from the exertion of changing. However, with the assuring hand on her shoulder, she tries to see herself through another's eyes. Without the self-scrutiny. She sees a slightly pale, but otherwise attractive young woman. Her cheeks flush as she feels Selina drop her chin onto her shoulder.

"That's my girl."

They buy the dress, along with a few nice blouses and some slacks that fit her like a second skin. Then they pause for lunch. It's just a nice little chain cafe where they get sandwiches and water. Stephanie's feet hurt from keeping up with the other woman while breaking in a new pair of Converse. She rubs at her toes under the table.

"That guy is checking you out." Selina tips her chin in a direction.

Surreptiously, Stephanie surveys her admirer. He's got shoulder-length brown hair and a crooked smile. It's flattering, but she isn't all that attracted to him.

Plus, she's dating Tim.

Isn't she?

* * *

_(One Day Later)_

It hurts. Like a punch to the gut it fucking hurts. All that former rejection welling up with bile. Her inflated self esteem resembles a farting balloon. She bites her lower lip to keep the tears at bay. Her fingers shake over the keyboard in... sadness? Rage?

"That bastard." She grits her teeth.

Stephanie wants to throw something. She slams the laptop shut and slips it off the bed before storming around the apartment.

"I just can't. UGH. That little-_ 'focus on being a detective'_! Bruce thinks we shouldn't see each other any more. Well, I think Bruce is a gigantic butt!"

"You'd be right."

She turns, fuming, to find Selina back from her meeting. Stephanie exhales and bursts into tears. Not pretty sobs like TV, no, full-on ugly snot tears.

"T-T-Tim broke- he broke up with meeee!"

Selina pulls her into a full-body hug. Stephanie worries about her mascara staining the other woman's white collar. Sensing her hesitance, Selina just tugs her in closer. Short fingers tangle in blonde hair to knead at the scalp below.

"Shhh... let it all out."

"C-can't 'deal with my drama' right now. What does that even mean?! I'm hundreds of miles away. How can he have to deal with me? He says I'm clearly not committed to th-th' cause if I just ru-run awaay!"

Stephanie has reached the wailing stage and Selina will probably have to get her blouse dry-cleaned. She just holds the other girl until Stephanie nods away the last of the salty sheen and goes to wash her face.

Selina knocks on the bathroom door.

"You should take a hot bath, it'll make you feel loads better. I'm going out to get us some ice cream."

A blonde head pokes out of the door and her red-faced companion nods.

* * *

Selina hums as she browses the little video shop for what she's looking for. The little old lady at the counter solves a crossword while she waits for Selina's selection. Her black-nailed fingers skim the titles and her brow furrows a little.

"Excusez-moi madame. Avez-vous les arisotochats?"

Age-yellowed eyes turn up to her and the woman jumps down from her stool. She leads Selina to a section labelled 'Enfants' and finds the title without even looking. Selina thanks the woman and juggles her euros between her wallet hand and the one carrying the grocery bag.

The selection is perfect. Lost cats in Paris. Plus, she takes Stephanie for the type of kid to be raised in front of Walt Disney's collection of candy-coated morals.

The walk back to their

She jingles the lock while heading in. They have their own little signals to each other. Jingling the knob twice means 'all clear', four times means 'I'm in trouble' emergency's are when you don't even bother.

Stephanie is sitting on the sofa watching something with a heavy amount of moaning when Selina walks in. She juggles the remote in a vain attempt to change the channel before she's caught.

The older woman's eyebrows sky-rocket up her forehead. She bursts out laughing at the chuffed expression on the blonde. Ruddy cheeks puffed out and wide blue eyes.

"Should I have knocked?"

"I was channel-surfing! How was I supposed to know they had a porn channel just passed the Sports Network?"

"Sure."

"It was an accident."

"Oh, I believe you."

"Seriously!"

"This is my serious face."

They have a stare-down before both cracking up. Selina begins dishing out the ice cream. Stephanie jumps up from the sofa and begins digging through the grocery bag.

"Holy crap, you got the French version of The Aristocats!" She bounces.

"You wouldn't stop humming the soundtrack earlier." Selina says casually.

"Shhh... you love it."

Selina just smirks and licks chocolate off her fingers.

* * *

They curl up on the sofa with copious amounts of tasty dairy and one of the older Disney classics blaring from the TV.

Stephanie sings along (tunelessly) to every song. She even has little motions to go with the songs. Selina smiles, but just nods along.

When it gets to 'Everybody Wants to Be a Cat' they share a look over how psychedelic it is for a scene. Also, raised eyebrows at the racist portrayal of the Siamese cat.

"Ouch. Forgot about that." Stephanie hisses.

It's well passed midnight when they turn the movie off. Both yawn exaggeratedly. Stephanie's heading to bed when Selina calls for her.

"Oh, by the way! Holly called. Apparently, she had a visitor looking for you the other night. Batgirl misses you."

The younger girl smiles and Selina feels a little more accomplished. She feels less like strangling Tim Drake than earlier. Building up Stephanie's confidence is a crucial part of turning her into a cat. You can't just waltz into battle in very little armor and expect to get by on shyness. No, you've got to own it. The money, the crooks, they automatically owe you respect. You are a cat.

* * *

**_"Excusez-moi madame. Avez-vous les arisotochats?" - "Excuse me, Ma'am. Do you have The Aristocats?"_**

**__I feel a little bad writing Tim as being such a dick. I don't read a lot of Robin/Red Robin, so I was really nervous about putting him in. Thus, I just kinda summarized things and had Steph wail them out. I also didn't want to make her too much of a crybaby. However, getting dumped freaking sucks. Steph's gone through a lot of rejection and just when she was starting to feel good about herself this came as the icing on the cake. **

**Additional note: The french porn scene is inspired by real events. My aunt and I were channel surfing in our hotel and stumbled across gay porn. Awwwkwwarrd.**

**All characters mentioned by name are DC (even Holly's girlfriend Karon). I own nothing.**


	4. Together in Paris

**ACK. It's been months since I updated this! I suck. Sorry about that guys. Inspiration is a fickle thing that I need to muscle past apparently.**

**So, there were multiple scenes cut from this. For example, Cass was supposed to show up. However, I think it's too soon for our ladies to get dragged back to Gotham. ****I almost cut a scene near the end, but decided that it fit in with the topic of this chapter, which is sexuality in Paris. This kind of wraps up the 'Seduction School' arc, but there will be more wild and crazy times with these two. **

**I also enjoyed inserting a little Bilal cameo (He's the Nightrunner/Batman of Paris from Batman Inc.) I'm not sure if I want to make him a more major character though. This chapter is home to my first OCs of this fanfiction (it took me four chapters, I'm a little impressed). Marcel and Louis are just spur of the moment OCs and we likely shant be seeing them again. You're all devastated, I'm sure.**

**Steph does get lucky in this chapter, but it's nothing too graphic. I also left a few things ambiguous about her experience. Take from it what you will.**

**"Bruce" as a verb was taken from QuipQuipQuip aka Kitty's story 'Sorry I Bruced You'.**

**Adrienne and Mae are references to Selina and Steph's first voice actors.**

**I'll shut up now.**

**-B**

* * *

Adrenaline courses through Stephanie's veins. The feeling of her blood pounding, the pure elation of a controlled fall. She curves her body to roll atop the next roof top. Her knees protest when they meet loose mortar and dust. Her lip bleeds at her effort to be noiseless. Speaking of noiseless, Selina drops to the roof top (much more elegantly) next to her.

It's the fourth straight night of working on her urban acrobatics. Selina made her start small with park benches and dumpsters. Now she's allowed to work on roofs.

Stephanie felt patronized at the time, but realises now that crawling before walking is something she needs to learn. She's the type to dive head first into any situation, and that's not how cats operate. She must become a whip instead of a wrecking ball.

Her form is elegant and loose as she topples off the roof to catch herself on a scaffolding. Keeping the momentum, she flips and catches herself on the grating of a window. Such flimsy metal can't hold her weight regularly, so she swings herself onto a rock ledge and pulls herself up. From there she can climb onto a much steeper roof.

Selina's waiting on top of it. She looks thoughtful, but approving. Another thing they've kept in mind is to keep a low profile. No fancy costumes, just their work-out gear. Any press about Catwoman in Paris would bring Bruce running to their location. That's something neither of them wants.

"You seem to have an admirer." Selina says.

Stephanie furrows her brows in confusion and darts her eyes around. She traces Selina's gaze to an adjacent rooftop.

Across from them is a young man in a hoodie. He has his headphones in, but is looking right at Stephanie. He has these intense dark eyes that remind her of Cass. Not that she can see much due to darkness and distance.

Selina clears her throat, and Steph blushes in response. She waves the young man over.

"Salut, Madame, Mademoiselle." He says.

"Bon soir, Monsieur." Selina says.

"Commen ca va?" He says, looking at Stephanie.

She clears her throat and warily says.

"Ca va bien, Monsieur... et tu?"

Up close she can see his olive complexion and shaved head. He seems friendly, but there's an edge to him that she and Selina share. It's the righteous anger that drives people to action.

"L'anglais?" He addresses Selina.

"Oui. American."

"Hello, my name is Bilal. You parkour very good."

Selina discretely elbows Stephanie towards him.

"I'm Adrienne and this is my niece Mae."

He holds out a hand to shake. His grip on Selina's is firm and polite, but on Stephanie his grasp lingers. Selina feels a smirk coming on. Perhaps this would provide an opportune lead-in for the next assignment.

* * *

"Seduction school again?" Stephanie whines.

"You're going to take your training into the field, Ms. Fay Wray."

"Couldn't I do like... phone sex or something? My generous-ness kinda gets in the way of being sexy."

Selina clucks her tongue. She wishes that Stephanie carried the same assurance with her body in mating as she does in fighting. Or, at least the same enthusiasm.

"Do you masturbate?"

Stephanie seems to choke on air at the question. Her face goes the colour of ripe watermelon.

"Well, yeah. I mean, I was pregnant and single. Woo hormones. Got really well acquainted with ol' Righty. Thought I was gonna get tendonitis for a while."

Selina snorts softly, but keeps her face serious.

"Did you bring yourself to orgasm?"

"That's kinda the point... right?"

"It should be. Same way it should be with sex. One night stands anyway. Do what makes you feel good. Whatever makes you feel sexy and in control."

"Like wear black leather and carry a whip?" Steph teases.

"If that's your kink."Selina shrugs.

Stephanie is quiet for a few minutes while Selina dishes up dinner. The older woman sets a plate in front of her companion. She clears her throat when dinner's ready. Stephanie smiles in thanks and digs in.

"So, would I just be picking up some John Doe at a club, or am I to be seeing this guy more than once?"

"You don't have to have sex with anyone. You just need to seduce him. Make him putty in your hands. Then you can bail out of the window while he's none the wiser. And, if by some instance of bad luck-"

"Brown Luck, you mean."

"-Brown Luck that you pick out a complete psycho, I'll be there to provide back-up."

* * *

The periwinkle dress lies across her bed. She has strappy black heels on and stands in front of the mirror in her underwear. It's lavender lace, mostly see-through. She blushes at the sight of herself. She looks like she's playing a role. Her shoulders slump and she decides to make her belly talk for good measure.

"Time to go out and play vapid to get a guy. Aww yiss."

Attempting to pump herself up for the role just makes it feel more forced.

Out in the hall, Selina wishes Holly were here. Holly knows how to boost Stephanie's confidence and help her find her inner goddess.

Playing the role is something Bruce always suggests. He gets creepy in-character, like method acting. Once he got so far into the role of Matches Malone that he was stuck calling her 'Toots' in a nasally Jersey accent for months afterwards. Coincidentally, she ignored him for months after.

Before she can knock, Stephanie opens the door. She looks younger with the make-up on. She probably learned to apply it from her friends and is wearing a little too much. Selina almost tells her to go and take off the foundation; she has lovely skin, but knows Stephanie craves affirmations. If she offers to do her make-up, it'll probably put those walls back up.

"You look great."

"How come you get to wear a wig?" Steph prods the blonde bob.

"Because tonight isn't about me. I'm but a character in the background of your big night."

Stephanie groans. She leans against the wall, "Why do I have to pick up boys in Paris? Picking boys up in Gotham is easier. Find a rooftop and a brick, or maybe go to some garage metal show and wear a torn Cure T-Shirt. I can't pick up shnazzy boys who speak French and expect an extensive knowledge of fashion and cheese."

Selina grabs her chin and looks her in the eyes, "Steph. Honey. I'm not sending you into a fancy restaurant to find a lover. I'm sending you to a collegiate bar where they play French techno-punk and serve micro brewed beer. I swear, the crowd will be international and just as confused about cheese and fashion as you."

"I'm underage."

"Not in Paris. Here, the drinking age is just a suggestion."

"Aren't you a little old to be hanging out in a College Bar?"

Selina swats her butt, "That's the fun part. I get to play the role of 'desperate cougar'."

Stephanie cackles. She has more of a bounce in her step, "I can't wait to see this."

* * *

The bar is less intimidating than she was expecting. It looks similar to the ones in Gotham she's been sneaking into since she was fifteen. There's music playing and a billiards table. There's a guy reading at a corner table and a group of loud students conversing near the back. Two groups of men are playing pool. She starts with a drink. She flattens her breasts against the bar, flashing the bartender ample cleavage, and bites her lip. She pauses because she really can't read French.

However, the bartender reads her silence and asks, "American?"

"Haha, oui. I don't uhh... recognize any of these brands other than Perrier. Awful, I know." She flushes, self-deprecating.

His smile is charming and he leans forward, "What do you like to drink, Mademoiselle?"

"Um. What kind of beer do you have on tap?"

"We have two Belgian ales on tap. There's Craig Allen and Mont des Chat, we also have LaBelle, an IPA, and Heineken, which is a brand you'll probably recognize."

"I'll have the Cat one."

He laughs and pours her a glass. Stephanie's lipstick leaves a mark on the rim. She likes it. She's marking her territory. Surreptitiously, she surveys the bar for potential marks. There's the bartender, who seems interested and has arms that she wouldn't say 'no' to. The two groups of men playing pool seem to have a diverse group. She catches one of them checking her out and does her best attempt at 'fluttering eyelashes'. It probably looks like she's having a spasm.

The door opens and she sees a flash of blonde hair. Selina stands at the bar and elbows her 'accidentally'. She huffs and makes her way to a seat close to the guy with the book. She wonders if her proximity is partly attraction. Maybe she favours the bookish type? That wouldn't explain Dean. Plus, her thing... with Robin was borne out of idealizing his 'free' lifestyle, the Tim loving came later. So, if she does have a type, it's probably the daring kind of men who are no good for her.

She's so busy using her 'inside voice' that she fails to notice one of the pool players approach her.

"Ca va, Cherie? Buy you a drink?"

She wants to roll her eyes and point to the drink she's holding, but swallows it and replaces it with a laugh. Guys like it when you laugh at them for no reason. It makes them feel funny or something.

"Sure. I just gotta finish this one first."

He motions to sit and she nods. A shrieking cackle from the bar informs her than Selina is enjoying her role a little too much. She side-eyes the situation to see her flirting outrageously with the bartender, who, is looking at her balefully.

The man clears his throat to draw her attention back to him. She runs her eyes over his form. He has broad shoulders and dark hair. His clothes are loose enough to hide either a gut or a ribcage. His eyes are pale green and his smile is a little crooked. He doesn't make her loins catch fire or whatever, but he looks seduce-able.

She crosses and uncrosses her legs. He watches with interest. His beer of choice is something dark with a label she can't read. He makes small talk. Asks her what she's doing in Paris. She tells him she's here to look at schools and absorb some of the culture. She's thinking of transferring for an Art History degree. He's a Chemistry major. He likes football and Swedish punk. His name is Marcel. She decides to keep the 'Mae' alias.

After about an hour, his friends have started gathering at their table. He has best friend that is so hot, she can't concentrate. He has olive skin and curly dark hair and equally dark eyes. He's got the same easy smile Nightwing has. He's way out of her league.

Louis. Hottie's name is Louis. She excuses herself to go freshen up.

Selina finds her in the rest room and asks how she's doing as she checks her lipstick.

"A lot of guys there. It's okay to feel nervous. If you wanna tap out and try somewhere else. The penis to vagina ratio in this bar is making me a little nervous for you."

"Thanks, but I'm a big girl. I think I've got this one."

"The skinny one who started talking to you, or his gorgeous friend who you've been trying not to eyefuck all night?"

"The first."

Selina pats her on the shoulder, "Go for the gold. Aim high."

"He's gorgeous and way out of my league."

"Stephanie. You haven't seen your ass."

She leaves and Stephanie is just buzzed enough to believe her.

Her looks and touches are much more flirtatious after that. Louis is appreciative and interested. She feels bubbly and Marcel seems to take the hint. He's a laid back enough guy to not be too offended by her obvious change in attention. Louis whispers in her ear about going back to his apartment and she gets hit with a wall of anxiety.

She's on the pill. He probably has condoms. She's in control. She is in control.

'Mae' tells him that she needs to freshen up, but that she definitely wants to. He goes to pay the tab.

Stephanie actually uses the bathroom for peeing this time. She's had three beers and has been matching them with water to avoid intoxication. A cleared throat alerts her that Selina is in the stall over.

"You got this?" She asks.

"I got this."

"Okay. I'll still keep an eye on you, just from a non-voyeuristic distance."

"Thanks."

* * *

Louis' apartment isn't much different from the kind boys in Gotham live in. Red brick building check. Bruce Lee posters, check. Laptop, iPod, a bed and a radiator by the window. The biggest difference is the well-stocked kitchen and it turns her on a little. Not that she needs much help with that.

Louis is doing quite nicely with that. Pouty lips make their way down her shoulder to chase away a strap and push it past her breasts. Stephanie prickles a little and pulls his head back to her mouth.

"What's the rush?" She asks between kisses.

He smiles and puts his hands respectfully on her back. She rolls her eyes and pushes him onto the bed. Settling her weight on his lap, she brings his hands to her ass. He squeezes with appreciation and she thanks Selina's advice.

Louis' hands are big and experienced, but she can't help but fantasize about them being smaller and more deft. When his face is pressed between her thighs she imagines his full lips and dark eyes belonging to someone else. When he's sinking into her, she's picturing Tim with his underoos around his ankles. He'd probably whimper 'holy shit' or something equally profound.

As far as lovers go (Dean being the only comparison) Louis is definitely the best lay she's had. He sleeps and she steps back into her dress and heels. The ache in her... well everywhere, is pleasant and makes her a little drowsy. The cold air keeps her aware. She's glad for the jacket she thought to wear. As far as walks of shame go, taking the Metro home (in Paris) from having steamy sex with an attractive stranger...

She's lost her train of thought. Selina is waiting at their station with a copy of the Gazette and a lit cigarette.

"Three hours?" She sounds impressed.

"I passed out. It was more like forty minutes. Beer makes me sleepy."

"Was it good? Did he make you do anything you didn't want to?"

"No. I was in control."

Selina cracks a smile and gives her a hug, "Congratulations, Stephanie. You have graduated Seduction School."

"Awesome. I need a shower."

* * *

She's towelling her hair off when she finds Selina lounging with a book. She looks so elegant. Like Paris was built just to house Selina Kyle.

"Tolouse Lautrec." Selina says.

Stephanie pretends that she wasn't reading over the other woman's shoulder. Selina holds the book up for further inspection. Stephanie nods.

"He's a famous French artist, right?" She guesses.

"Yes. He was rich and talented. So, of course, he spent his time and money embarrassing his family by keeping in the company of the... working class. His favourite models were the dancers at the Moulin Rouge."

She flips to a page showing two women nude from the waist down. The background is red and angry, a contrast to their yellow-white skin.

"It's called The Medical Inspection. As you know, sex trade workers had to be tested for transmitted infections and were put into Sanitariums if they tested positive." Her voice is steady, but her eyes are angry.

"These are the women you protect-we protect." Stephanie says.

Selina searches her face before patting her head fondly and standing. She leaves out the window and isn't back until after dawn. Stephanie leaves the latch unlocked, but goes to bed. You cannot keep a cat, they come and go as they please.

* * *

"I am a_ massive_ dick." Tim sighs, rubbing at his eyes.

"No, I am the Dick around here." Dick lands from his round-off.

Tim puts the weights he is curling down. Dick towels off and sits next to him on the bench.

"Let's talk about it, Buddy, Let's have a chat."

Tim grunts in frustration. It's as if expressing his feelings is physically painful.

"I don't even want to be Robin! I'm not dedicated enough to the cause. So I just... vented on her. Steph doesn't deserve that. I'm lashing out and she doesn't deserve and I don't know why I feel like this."

"Gee. I wonder why?"

"Bruce." Cass pipes up.

Confused by the non-sequitor, Dick searches the cave for their mentor. Bruce is supposed to be at a finance meeting. Not seeing shadow or hair, he shrugs and looks at Cass for clarification.

She pokes Tim in the chest and repeats, "Bruce."

"Bruce is making me a jerk?"

"No. Yes. You're Brucing yourself."

"Bruce isn't a verb, Cass." Tim sighs.

"English is volatile." She says.

"Wait, we're using Bruce's name as a verb for 'emotionally constipated'?"

"Kinda. More like... ignoring sadness and turning it into anger at the wrong people."

Tim flinches. He tries to disagree, but instead is bombarded with the images of Conner and Bart's broken bodies. He scrubs at his face and clenches his jaw. Dick puts an arm on his shoulder and he shoves it off, standing.

"I gotta..."

There's a stiff silence in his absence. Dick, the nervous chatter, says, "I'm totally using Bruce as a verb from now on."

"Go ahead."

* * *

**Next chapter will be up sooner, I promise.**

**-B**


	5. Train-ing

**Hey kids. This chapter is hopefully a little more prompt, albeit shorter. Our ladies are leaving gay Paris and heading to Germany. It's really more of a bottle episode than anything, and I apologise for that. However, the next installment has much more going on.**

**GrayonsonCam was an actual thing. Look it up. Barbara Gordon is a creeper.**

**Selina's childhood street is named of course after Ed Brubaker, my favourite Catwoman writer. **

**Thanks to everyone for the lovely continued reviews. They really do grease the writing wheels. Plus, I always appreciate feedback.**

* * *

_"The thing they don't tell you about helping people, about saving them, is that it's like a drug. That need. The hammering rush that comes from it. The first time is always the best, all the other times are just trying to find that moment- the perfect high."_

Then

Of course, the morning comes and she feels raw, scrubbed out and vulnerable. Without the mask, the discomfort would be unbearable. She's exposed like a nerve and showers frantically to try and wash it off. Selina looked at her face in the mirror, eyes black and lip busted. There was no doubt in her mind that she'd be doing it again the next night, and the night after that, and so-forth.

The more she went out, the less she needed other vices. Coke, booze, sex, the only ones that stayed were stealing and coffee. Both worked well with helping people. Robbing people was kind of like helping people. If you robbed the right people anyway.

* * *

Now

Selina was sitting on apartment's roof top watching the sun come up. Her eyes weren't quite blackened due to lack of sleep, but pretty pouchy. The slap of bare feet alerted her to Stephanie's added presence.

"Hey."

"Hey."

"I made coffee, but it's downstairs because I'm not ninja enough to flip hot drinks in breakable containers up the sides of buildings yet."

"Using a thermos helps."

"The wonders of technology." Stephanie sat next to her with a graceless 'whump'. Her hair was fluffy from sleep and natural curl. The sunlight caught flyaway strands like grains of wheat.

"We're leaving Paris tomorrow."

Stephanie hummed and nodded, "I had a feeling. What's up next? Bullwhip training in Spain? Stealing from the Louvre and bailing to the south of France?"

Selina chuckled, but remained silent.

"I see. It's a secret. Fine. Be like Batman."

That earned her a sharp look. Selina's green eyes turned a warning shade of acid green. Stephanie jutted her chin out and stood back up. Her back and knees cracked at the movement.

"I'm going back to bed. Try not to stay sitting here for too long. Cold stone and poor leg circulation lead the path to hemherrhoids."

Selina bit her cheek to keep from laughing.

Like the bat she had trained to be, Stephanie stepped off the roof and disappeared.

Selina sighed and pushed at her eyes. This wasn't going to be fun.

* * *

Bruce Wayne was a gentleman and a scholar. He was a father and a lover, a crusader and keeper of the peace. He was many things.

Pouting was not one of them.

"Perhaps if you contacted Ms. Kyle via telephone or email like a normal human being..." Alfred said as he dusted the giant penny.

"Yeah, Bruce. You're being a total creep." Oracle said.

Bruce continued typing, "Tell me Barbara, does that glass house of yours provide a good view for rock-throwing?"

"Stones in glass houses. My voyeurism helps people, Bruce."

"And yet, the 'GraysonCam'. I'm sure images of my son showering provides you with evidence of his hygienic routine."

Radio silence.

"I got rid of that months ago."

"Because you got caught."

He smirked. So what if he had traced the credit card records of an alias of Selina's? And so what if he had hired a private detective to gather some information on her sudden departure from Gotham? He was just concerned. Concerned in the kind of way that led him to check his schedule for when an impromptu visit to Paris could be justified. On Bruce Wayne's schedule anyway, the Goddamned Batman went where he damn well pleased.

"Honestly. Children." Alfred clucked.

* * *

Stephanie hated being left out of the loop. She sulked against the window on the mysterious train ride to Belgium. It's not like Selina could keep her blind and deaf on the trip. She was, however, still being infuriatingly tight lipped.

"Partners are supposed to trust each other. Open communication."

"Trust me to be closed about this communication." Selina didn't look up from her book.

Stephanie folded and unfolded her arms. She got up and stormed off in search of a snack bar or something.

She was buying a bag of Cadbury buttons when she felt the hairs on the back of her neck prickle. She turned to find one of the Rail attendants walking past. Cracking open her bag of chocolate, she hid in one of the bathrooms (despite the judging look of many) to think about which villains had lairs in Western Europe.

"Count Vertigo, Ultra Humanite, uhh British versions of the Rogues Gallery might visit here for travels. God, why is this so hard?"

"You forgot Catwoman."

Crack.

Stephanie slumped to the ground, she'd be up again in a few seconds, so Selina took the moment to slip a black bag over her head and tie her arms. This would be hard to explain if she were caught, which was exactly why she was glad that train bathrooms were the closest areas to the exits.

The locomotive slowed to a stop at the station and Selina slid off with her (now struggling) cargo.

"Selina, I can tell it's you. You fucking one-liner'd me before knocking me out. Plus, I can smell you."

Selina huffed out a breath and rolled her eyes. At least the kid wasn't brain damaged from the blow to the head.

"Why can't you just tell me where we're going? I bet we're getting weird looks."

"It's a training exercise now shut up."

Stephanie had the bag removed from her head as soon as they were in a Jeep and driving up a bumpy mountain road. Splashes of green trees and brown rocks as far as vision would permit. She sighed and pressed her sore head against the glass.

"If I guess where we are geographically, will you tell me if I'm right?"

"Nope." Selina turned on the radio.

Stephanie sank deeper in her seat and tried to fall asleep to the smooth jazz of Norah Jones.

"I spy with my little eye..."

Despite her expectations, when Stephanie awoke from her nap (car rides always made her sleepy) the car was rolling to a stop in front of a concrete compound. It seemed the trip through the forest was either a diversion, or it was a secret compound.

"Are we raiding some kind of League of Double-Assholes base?"

"No."

"Infiltrating a creepy cult?"

"No."

"Torturing tourists for pleasure."

"What the fuck Stephanie?" Selina looked angrier than she had ever seen her.

"Like... the movie Hostel..." She trailed off.

Selina exited the cab of the car and slammed the door. She paced with a hand rubbing her face for a second. Stephanie knew torture jokes weren't usual subject matter, but they had made light of darker subjects. She thought about the strong reaction.

Torturing tourists... She thought back to Gotham. Certainly enough of the nut jobs there liked playing with their food. Joker and his gas, Croc had been known to wound his prey before murdering them, hell even Ivy. The worst was definitely Black Mask though. Batman told her that he had made an example out of Catwoman's-

Her sister.

Oh Jesus fuck.

Stephanie fell out of the cab.

"Oh my god. I am so sorry. I didn't-"

"You didn't mean it like that. It's okay. Sorry I reacted-"

"Hey. Don't apologize for having revulsion for what happened. It was a shitty joke." Stephanie touched Selina's shoulder.

Inky tears stained her olive cheeks. She dabbled at the runny mascara. Stephanie just pulled her in for a tight hug. The spots made dark blotches on her white cardigan. She didn't really care.

"I'll kill him."

"Honey, you already did."

"Once wasn't good enough."

Her chuckle was more of a wet sob, but Selina pushed away and wiped at her eyes. She looked terrified and raw. She wasn't used to being exposed. Stephanie could relate. She made her way back to the Jeep.

"Look at me; I've put a damper on our happy holiday. I don't know if creepy concrete buildings come with proper kitchen, but I'm sure there'll at least be a hot plate for me to get started on making pancakes. I'd make waffles, but those little buggers require syrup cups and that shit requires a waffle iron. Or a toaster if you're doing it North American style."

It wasn't much, but it was enough for Selina to pull herself back together and help with the unpacking.

* * *

It turned out that creepy concrete buildings did have built in kitchens. At least, this one did. It was bare and industrial-looking, but there were no hanging cages or electrified pools, and therefore it was less sketchy than Stephanie prepared herself for.

Selina unloaded the fresh vegetables into the crisper.

"I like to be able to make a decent meal at any of my safe houses."

"So you own this lovely piece of real estate?"

"It helps to have something bomb proof out in the middle of nowhere in case the shit hits the fan."

"Good plan. Why didn't you come out here during NML?"

Selina poured herself a glass of orange juice and shrugged, "I dunno, no rules Gotham was kinda fun. For a while anyway."

"Dean felt that way too."

"What was he like?"

"A real bastard, and an okay guy, I guess."

"Fair enough. I've known my share of those."

"What do you feel like having for dinner?" Stephanie changed the subject.

"I got some pizza shells. We could make our own Neapolitan style."

"I have no idea what that means."

"We're closer to Naples than New York, so we're pretending to be fancy."

Stephanie laughed and Selina started pulling vegetables out of the crisper.

* * *

The mountain air was cold, but the rooms closest to the roof were heated. It was no temperate Paris, nor was it Gotham. Gotham was cold and miserable half the year and swelteringly hot the other half.

"What neighbourhood are you from originally?" Stephanie asked through a mouthful of pizza.

Selina ruminated, "My family lived in a shitty burrow in the 2000 block."

Stephanie frowned and checked the map in her head, "East Brubaker?"

"Yeah. Catholic community that kinda built around the church. It was crappy even then. Nowhere near as bad as it is today. Kids could still play outside then."

"So, you think Gotham's gotten worse?"

"I think it's worth saving."

Stephanie hummed and stole another piece of Selina's pizza. It had jalapenos and lettuce with some kind of spicy sausage she couldn't pronounce. She tore off a bite.

Selina stood and walked over to the window.

"We'll be having a guest instructor show up tomorrow. Would you like to have your exam before or after?"

Stephanie finished chewing her piece of pizza, "Depends on what the exam is."

"It's a test of will and motivation. It can be... exhausting. I don't think Bruce has made you go through it yet."

"Is it the candle thing? 'cause I heard Tim talking about it, and no he hasn't."

"It isn't the candle thing."

Stephanie looked at her pizza-bloated stomach and wished she hadn't eaten so much. She was tired from the car ride and happy to go into a carb coma. The thought of doing anything tiring made her think of the likelihood of losing her dinner.

"I-uh. Not tonight. I'm beat."

"Hey, no trouble. I did cold-clock you earlier."

* * *

Stephanie awoke to laughter. She stretched to reach for her phone on her bedside. The little black numbers read '7:30'. Jesus, that was too early. Cats weren't nocturnal like Bats, she guessed.

She remembered to at least put on a bra and tie her hair up before heading down the winding metal staircase.

Selina was sitting pretty close to an older man. His body was shaped roughly like a brick. Salt and pepper stubble coated his square jaw and little blue eyes peeked out from black brows.

"This the kid, 'lina?"

Stephanie gaped. It was Ted fucking Grant.

"Yeah, that's her."


End file.
